


Drowning Our Romantic Sorrows

by Veldritch



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Suggestive Themes, brief mention of abuse nothing much but I know people hate being surprised with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldritch/pseuds/Veldritch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After much consumption of alcohol, Jeff discusses the events of the St. Patrick's Day camping trip with Duncan... among other things. Takes place during chapter two of "Shipper on Deck," but the only necessary knowledge is post-5.06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning Our Romantic Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shipper on Deck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236868) by [Veldritch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldritch/pseuds/Veldritch). 



> Disclaimer: Do not try to duplicate Jeff and Duncan's pub crawl. I'm not an expert, but I suspect you might get alcohol poisoning.
> 
> I also employ some phonetic spelling for the drunk speech, so you may need to read some of this outloud to understand it. Given the content of their conversations, I don't recommend doing this in public.
> 
> Edited to add: as usual, the opinions of the characters expressed in this fic (especially when drunk) do not represent my own, just how I think they'd think.

Jeff had been up most of the night before finishing grading midterms. Seriously, what was wrong with giving out A’s for effort? He never should have let Annie into his apartment, but she’d tricked him with a promise of a Liam Neeson movie night. What was he going to do, pass up an evening with his best friend _and_ his favorite actor? Instead, he’d spent it hunched over tests as Annie sat next to him, arms crossed and one finger tapping in disapproval.

                Now, the next day, he was reaping the consequences, and thus taking a nap in his shared office. A rap on his door woke him, and he worried for a moment that Hickey had come back. As the door opened, though, he saw Duncan peek his head in with a big grin. “Up for a pub crawl tonight?”

                “A pub crawl? Is that where you get so plastered you have to crawl out?” He’d seen Duncan reach that state of inebriation before, and it wasn’t pretty.

                “You’ve never heard the term? Preposterous! I’m sure you yanks have some equivalent. No, we go to one bar, have a drink, then head to the next, repeat ad infinitum. Or at least, _ad ebrietatem_.”

                “Add what?”

                “Ah, the failures of the American educational system… anyway, are you up for it?”

                “Sure. I could use blowing off some steam.”

                “Not enjoying the teaching work anymore?”

                “Teaching is fine, it’s grading that blows.”

                “Very much agree to that. I’ll see you around sevenish, then? Where should we start?”

                “L Street.”

 

**7:05 pm: L Street**

**Jeff: Macallan, neat (1 glass)**

**Duncan: Guinness (1 bottle)**

“So, you’re taking a liking to teaching, are you?”

                “It’s all right. I’d _rather_ be back practicing law, but since right now that would mean slinking back to Alan and his team, I’ll take the humiliation of working at a community college.”

                “I’d be insulted by the implications of that statement if I didn’t heartily concur.” Duncan took a swig and heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Do you ever look back at your life and wonder what series of poor choices led you to wind up where you are?”

                “Sometimes,” Jeff admitted.

                “It’s bloody depressing, isn’t it? How do you handle it?”

                Jeff answered by finishing his scotch.

                “Well, since I am fairly certain that’s one of the things that brought me here, but also do not care,” Duncan clinked Jeff’s glass and polished off his bottle.

 

**7:50 pm: HotSpot**

**Jeff: Vodka Martini (1 glass)**

**Duncan: another Guinness (1 bottle)**

“Really creative there with your drink choice there, Duncan.”

                “Right, because of course you actually like martinis, you’re not at all trying to cash in on the Bond mystique.”

                “Hey, I _like_ Bond.”

                “So do I, but you don’t see me making life choices based on it.”

                “This isn’t a life choice, Duncan, it’s one stupid drink.” As he sipped it, though, Jeff was starting to regret his decision. He liked martinis most of the time, but this club’s mix didn’t suit his palate. He was about to dump it and ask for something else when he caught a woman sitting further down the bar looking at Duncan with an intrigued expression. He nudged his friend under the bar. “Don’t look too quickly, but that blonde is staring at you.”

                “Probably in dismay,” Duncan replied. “Let me know if she’s had a few, and _then_ I’ll try picking her up.”

                Jeff was appalled. “You wait until women are _drunk_ to hit on them? I could write a book on how awful that is.”

                Duncan grimaced. “Oh Lord, don’t be disgusting. I don’t mean when they’re _incapacitated_ , just tipsy enough that they’re willing to expand their standards of attractiveness.”

                “Does that even work?”

                He hemmed for a bit before muttering, “Well, not so far.”

                “Then cut it out, it’s creepy.”

                “Oh, I’m sorry, but not all of us can seduce women simply by flexing our unnaturally massive biceps.”

                “I’m great at getting them, sure, but I suck at keeping them.” Jeff finished off his martini (he might as well, he paid for it) and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

                “Keeping them? Since when has Jeff Winger ever wanted to stay with a woman he’s bagged?”

                “You’ve been gone more than two years, Duncan. I’m…okay, let’s face it, I’m getting too old for this crap. Somewhere along the line, I reached the point where things I used to find fun and exciting, like picking up women at bars, are dull and repetitive, and things I used to only do when forced at gunpoint, like hanging out with friends, are now what I actually enjoy the most.”

                “Which is why I’m being blessed with your judgmental company tonight, I suppose.” Duncan took another sip of his Guinness. “Whatever happened with you and Britta? I know you thought you kept it well hidden and all, but you were obviously banging her your second year.”

                “It… didn’t work out. I mean, it was great at first, _really_ great, but I sort of lost interest after a while and so did she, and so we just ended it.”

                “‘Lost interest’? In a woman like Britta?” Duncan looked astounded. “Well, I suppose if you’re Jeff Winger you can always assume there are other, better fish in the sea, but _I_ think you’re a bloody idiot.”

                “Hey, it didn’t work out, okay? I mean, I tried. I just…” Jeff’s answer faded away. Why _had_ he lost interest in Britta? He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. Things had gone just fine for the first month or so, with weekly hook-ups. Then it tapered off to once a month, less than that by the end. When had sex with Britta become not worth the effort of hiding it?

                “So…” Duncan rolled his now-empty bottle around along its circular bottom. “You’re saying you’re not interested in her anymore…?”

                “She’s not interested in you, Duncan, just leave it.”

                “Nor was she in you when you first began pursuing her. I wouldn’t mind some advice about that.”

                “Duncan, I am going to have to be a lot drunker before I start talking to you about Britta, okay?”

 

**8:30 pm: Omnium Cantina**

**Jeff: Dos Equis (1 bottle, totally not motivated by the commercials)**

**Duncan: Dos Equis (2 bottles, _definitely_ motivated by the commercials)**

“ _God save our gracious queen, God save our noble queen, God save—_ ”

                “Get _off_ the chair, Duncan, you’re not even that drunk!”

                “And _those_ are the bloody lyrics, you wankers, not this ‘My country ’tis of thee’ crap!”

                “Go back to England!” shouted the drunks at the bar he’d been heckling.

                “Gladly! At least _we’ve_ got a decent health care system!”

                Jeff finally forcibly pulled Duncan down, catching him in his arms as he tumbled off the chair. His friend didn’t seem to care about how embarrassing their current postures appeared, but Jeff was self-conscious enough to notice the questioning glances. He set Duncan down hastily and tried nodding cockily at a hot woman in the next booth over. She just smirked at him, and he wanted to disappear into the floor.

                “Are you done making an idiot out of yourself?”

                “ _They_ bloody started it,” Duncan muttered as he shook his empty bottle and signaled the waitress for a second. Jeff sighed and wondered how soon he’d have to cut his friend off.

                “I never knew you were so possessive of your national anthem.”

                “You’re not the only people who stole it. The sodding Norwegians use it too. Apparently none of you can be bothered to come up with your own ideas!”

                “Hey, that’s not even our real anthem, it’s just some song. I don’t even know all the words to it.”

                “ _I_ do. I’ve heard it a thousand times. Ever since I corrected all my friends back in sixth grade, they used it to mock me.” Duncan scowled at his bottle of faux-Mexican beer. “I s’pose now _you’ll_ bring this up too, then.”

                Jeff almost grinned and said yes, but his friend looked genuinely morose. He remembered Annie’s cross little finger from the night before, and decided instead to say, “Hey, it’s better than being made fun of for your dad running off on you in kindergarten. Or for peeing your pants while playing foosball. I didn’t manage to get cool until high school.”

                “Well, you got cool eventually, at least. And you’ve got your circle of stalwart companions. Meanwhile I have you, a neighbor to whom I money, and a handful of women with a fetish for British accents.”

                “Stop whining, Duncan. What do you want me to do about it? I can’t help it that I get more action than you.”

                “I’m asking you to teach me, is all. I mean, take Britta. Somehow, in spite of being a lying scumbag who insulted everything she believed in, you managed nonetheless to shag her. I want that power, Jeff,” he said, grabbing Jeff’s hand. “I _need_ that power.”

                “All right, fine,” Jeff shook his hand off. “Look, I have no idea why Britta decided to sleep with me, to be honest. Maybe I grew up enough that she was willing to give me a try. Maybe she was just really horny and decided to lower her standards. I think it may have been a combination of both. It was just sex, we weren’t even exclusive.”

                “But see, that’s all I want! Sex! With attractive women! Why do you not get this?”

                Jeff rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you, Duncan. I may seem a perfect stud on the surface, but even _I_ strike out sometimes.” No need to his friend exactly how high that rate was; he had an image to maintain.

                “What I don’t grasp is how on earth you managed to blow it with Britta. You get _that_ , you keep it.”

                “It just ended,” Jeff sighed. “Around the time we had our St. Patrick’s Day camping trip, I guess.”

                Duncan waggled his eyebrows. “Ooh, _that_ sounds like an interesting story.”

                “It’s not, really. Okay, well, it sort of is. But I don’t think she’d appreciate me telling you.”

 

**9:15 pm: Mockingbird Tavern**

**Jeff: Rob Roy (1 glass)**

**Duncan: Rum and Coke, double (1 glass)**

“I feel like I’m ruining good scotch here.”

                “Oh come on, it’s just vermouth, it’s not going to kill you.”

                “If I hate it, I’m blaming you,” Jeff said before taking his first sip. He let it rest in his mouth before swallowing. “Okay, good suggestion.”

                “Damn right. So, you were telling me about your camping trip…”

                “Actually, I _wasn’t_ telling you about the camping trip.”

                “You can leave out the details with Britta, if you like. I’ve just always been curious what you did that weekend. The class was remarkably quiet without all of you, though Star-burns’ presentations on the history of hallucinogens was certainly an interesting experience.”

                “River rafting…which didn’t end well. Apparently Troy believed we’d go faster if he punctured the raft.”

                Duncan snorted in his drink. “Brilliant mind there.”

                “One that _also_ managed to score with the object of your obsession. Clearly he’s got something you don’t.”

                “Having the support of all his friends undoubtedly helped.” Duncan looked suggestively at Jeff.

                “I’m not shipping you and Britta.”

                “All right, what is this ‘shipping’ thing you people go on about? When did that verb stop meaning the transportation of cargo by boat?”

                “Ugh, it’s a nerd thing, I picked it up from Abed and that Rachel girl.” Jeff took another long drink. “Back to the camping trip? After we all got out of the river, we decided to set up camp in this forested area. I don’t know if it’s a park or just undeveloped land, but it was a pretty nice place. Lots of shade, a small lake for swimming, a cave—”

                “A cave?”

                “Oh yeah. Apparently the whole Greendale area’s got caves or something, Annie looked it up after the trip. So while Annie and Shirley were busy being the team moms and telling everyone how to set up camp like they were experts, and Troy and Abed were being doofuses in their swim trunks reenacting something, and Pierce got in this argument with Britta about something racist he’d said, _I_ decided to look around a bit on my own. And that’s when I found the cave…”

 

_Jeff was peering down the hole when he heard a loud stick crack. Startled, he turned to see that Britta had snuck up behind him. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I finally got sick of Pierce and figured whatever you were doing would be more interesting than hanging around camp.”_

_Jeff looked at Britta in her tank and cargo pants, still slightly damp from their dunk in the river, and started to grin. “Well, I know what I_ could _be doing…”_

_“Ugh, Jeff, it’s a woods, there’s dirt and sticks and bugs. I know it sounds sexy, but believe me, I know from experience we’ll be clawing that stuff out of crevices for weeks.”_

_“Speaking of crevices,” Jeff said, still thinking about hers, “I think I’ve found something here.” He pulled a flashlight out of mini backpack and shined it down into the hole. “Want to take a look?”_

_Britta hesitated at first, scowling at the darkness. Then she heard Pierce’s voice yelling from somewhere not too far away. “Britta! You can come out now! I promise I won’t insult your lesbian sisterhood anymore!”_

_“Ugh,” Britta said, “Sure, why the hell not?”_

_Jeff lowered her down into the cave, then scrambled down behind her. They both shone their flashlights around, taking in the wet walls, stalactites and stalagmites (Jeff could never remember which was which), and general ambiance of dank. As Britta was walking slightly ahead of him, though, Jeff’s attention was mostly taken up by her ass. “You know,” he began, moving up alongside her and slipping an arm around her waist, “we haven’t had a chance to be alone for a while. And the cave seems cleaner than the woods upstairs.”_

_Britta gave him a smirk. “It_ is _hard finding time away from the rest of the group, isn’t it?”_

_He leaned in to kiss her, and their flashlights both fell to the ground._

“You banged Britta in a _cave_?”

                “No! Like, five minutes later Troy and Abed came looking for us, and wanted to have an adventure. We wound up discovering the cave went all the way back into Greendale. After that it was late, so we just went swimming, had s’mores, and went to sleep. I was _planning_ on seeing if we could slip out that night, but the wildcats showed up, and everything was a mess until morning.”

                “Ah, how unfortunate,” Duncan said sarcastically.

                “Hey, we got to finish after we got back from the trip.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Actually… that was the last time we had sex, come to think of it. We were going to plan something later, but…” he shrugged. “I don’t know what happened.”

                “You were an idiot who took a hot woman for granted.”

                “Probably.” Jeff was feeling a little light-headed from his most recent drink. He hadn’t meant to give Duncan any details about Britta, but it has all sort of spilled out.

                “I mean, she _was_ hot,” he went on. “And I thought the sex was pretty good. She never liked it when I tried to go for her boobs for some reason.” Jeff’s eyes widened and he gulped, realizing what he’d just said. “Um, forget I mentioned that…”

                Duncan wasn’t listening. “Eleventh birthday party,” he said, nodding sagely. When Jeff gave him a confused look, he also gulped. “Forget I mentioned _that_.”

                They both stared at their empty glasses, before clearing their throats and rising to pay their tab.

 

**10:20 The Jettison**

**Jeff: Macallan, Neat (2 glasses)**

**Duncan: Gin and Tonic (2 glasses)**

“So,” Duncan said, his voice beginning to slur. “are you going t’try t’get back w’her? Now that Troy’s off sailing the world?”

                “Nn, no, no way. Britta… she is _so_ done with me.” Jeff’s speech wasn’t holding up to the drinking much better than Duncan’s. “Like, evry oppertunty she gets, she tells me the sex sucked, which is BULLSHIT,” the volume of his voice rose suddenly, making a few people in neighboring booths give them odd looks. Jeff glared at them. “It _is_ bullshit,” he declared. “I’m _awesome_ in bed.”

                They were both on their second drinks by now. The first had been occupied by badmouthing every professor they hated, as well as mocking the dean’s latest costume, a grape cluster to represent student unity, which made so little sense they had to assume he was running out of ideas.

                “But really,” Duncan went on, “you blew it, my friend. You’d the _hottest_ member of your little group, all sexed up and now she won’t have anything to do with your marlevous penis skills.”

                “They _are_ marvelous, thank you. And besides, Britta, the hottest? Pfft, you can’t pick one, th’ole study group’s hot. You got me, ovviously, then there’s Troy, he wazza football player and it shows, you know? Abed, I think he thinks that someday he really will have to be Batman and he works out to prepare, I dunno, he’s _way_ too fit for such a huge nerd.” Jeff hiccupped, and wondered if the second glass had been a bad idea. “Shirley’s gorgeous, too, don’teller I said it, though. She’ll be all ‘I’ma married woman, Jeffrey!’ And Pierce…okay, well, no’the _whole_ study group. I bet he was handsomer when he was younger, though.”

                “Hmm, n’interesting omission in that list.”

                “Who’d I forget?”

                Duncan got a knowingly smug grin on his face. “Miss Edison.”

                “Annie?” Jeff suddenly found himself uncomfortable “Oh, well, she’s, yaknow, cute.”

                “Cute? Thaz what you say about a labadror retriever, not the woman half the campus wants to screw. An’ the only reason they don’t try,” he added, jabbing a finger at his friend, “is ’cause they think you’ve got dibs.”

                “Dibs? What?” Jeff felt the scotch rise a little in his throat. “No, wha—we’re just friends!”

                “For now.”

                “For _ever_.”

                “Ah, good news, then. I’ll let ’em all know it’s open season again.”

                When Jeff’s eyes grew wide in horror, Duncan’s grin grew even broader.

                “Feeling jealous all’va sudden?”

                “No! I don’ thinkabout Annie like… _that_.”

                “Oh, right, you’ve _never_ considered hitting that?”

                “Ugh, don’t be d’sgusting, she’s, like, way younger’an me. I’m like her older brother. I couldn’t…no.”

 

**10:55 Top Drawer**

**Jeff: Black Russian (1 glass)**

**Duncan: Brandy (1 glass)**

“…and she’s got these _amazing_ boobs. Like…oh my god, you just gotta staaaare at them. W’named a _monkey_ afterer boobs, you know that, right?”

                “On twitter? I may’ve voted for that.”

                Jeff started to giggle, a noise that did not sound good coming from him. “Ev’ry time Troy’d say that monkey’s name she’d get all pissed anit was so cute, dammit. Y’just wanna kisser, right?”

                Duncan arched an eyebrow. “She’sot, I’ll givyuu that. The wayer rump jiggles…”

                “I know, right! Oh man, our first Hallween party, she ad this stelekon…sekelton…skeleton costume, all skin tight an’I askeder to dance. Back then, I din’t really notice, but after we kisstin the debate, I kept coming back toit…”

                “All right,” Duncan held up a hand, clumsily after so much alcohol. “All right, as a skikolojist anyour friend, I am going t’tell you sumthin.” He cleared his throat. “D’you know what your problem is, Mr. Jeffrey Winger? _You_ are really, _really_ randy for Annie.”

                “M’not! M’just…drunk.”

                “In vino verticle, my friend, and I am very certain I jussaid that wrong, but I don’care. Alcohol lowers yournibitions, it doesn’t make you a diffrunt person. It reveals the real you.”

                “So I guess th’real you’s a nashnalistic lecher with no r’spect for my privacy?”

                “One, fuck you, two, we’re not talkinbout m’ishoos here, we’re talkinbout _yours_.” He pulled himself up straight and mustered his last ounces of sobriety. “You. Want. Annie.”

                “Fuck _you_ , I said I don’t!”

                “Yalso juspent ten minutes detailinger anatomy in ways that ndicate _years_ of givingit a lot of thought. Want to know why you got tireduv Britta like a complete wanker? You switchta Annie.”

                Jeff was ready to deny it, adamantly, but through the vapors of his drunkenness, another memory from the camping trip floated to the surface.

 

_The four of them emerged from the cave and trudged back to the lake. Shirley and Pierce were in a heated argument as they arrived._

_“I meant it as a_ compliment _,” Pierce was explaining. “I just thought camping was something that wouldn’t be familiar to someone from a more…_ urban _background.”_

_“Urban my ass, I go camping with my boys every summer!”_

_“Yeah!” Britta joined in on Shirley’s side. “African-American populations are well represented in rural areas, too. Or do you think they’re all gang-bangers and homefries?”_

_“Well, present company excluded, of course…”_

_Jeff chuckled and decided to leave the two women to handle it. Meanwhile Abed and Troy had raced past him and cannonballed into the lake. He heard a shriek and saw they’d splashed Annie, who was up to her neck in the water. Jeff considered going in himself, though he hadn’t brought a bathing suit. Boxers would be fine, plus give the ladies something to talk about on the trip home._

_Right then, however, Annie rose out of the water and started wading back towards land. Her hair was wet and stuck to her face, and she pushed it out of her eyes. When she noticed him on the shore, she smiled. “Hey Jeff! Did you find anything fun in the woods?”_

_Jeff didn’t answer. He was still in shock from the sight of Annie, soaking wet, in a bathing suit, gleaming in the sun in front of him. It wasn’t even that revealing a swimsuit, with a tank-style top and boy-shorts on the bottom, but it still fit her every curve, and was straining a little on the top._

_He was starting to feel things, bad things, things you shouldn’t feel about a friend who was barely twenty, especially after you’d just gotten to first base with someone else and were planning on going further later that night._

_God help him, though, she was so gorgeous right then._

_But no, it wasn’t like that, no, he wasn’t really thinking about her sexually, he was just noticing that_ other _people might think that way. Right. Annie should probably cover up, Pierce might say something horribly inappropriate._

_Sure enough, as their elderly friend came strolling back, he glanced at the two of them. “Better throw on a towel, Annie,” he said with a grin. “I think Jeffrey’s getting a boner.”_

_Shirley gasped and smacked his shoulder, but Britta merely raised an eyebrow inquisitively._

_“I am not—” Jeff began to protest, but Annie just laughed it off._

_“Come on, you guys!” She jogged over and grabbed Britta and Shirley’s hands. “Did you bring suits? I want us to all go in together!”_

“Mnot…” Jeff mumbled as he came out of his reverie. But he couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

 

**11:30 Double Felix**

**Jeff: water (1 glass)**

**Duncan: back to Guinness (1 bottle)**

The two professors were getting quieter now. They’d picked a back booth at the bar, away from the rowdier crowds who were mostly students from City College by the look of it. Jeff’s brain felt bleary and he’d switched to water, hoping he could hold out until he could get home to a bottle of aspirin.

                Duncan looked equally exhausted, his bottle barely touched. “I dunno how I feel about Britta,” he was saying. “I mean, I know I want’shag her, but… when she wazzin therapy, she was _soooo_ boring. Jus’talked about issues and gender theory, and how she w’storn over radical feminism’s rejection of trans people, which asnear as I could tell was _litrally_ an argument about semantics, but then she’d say, ‘oh you’ve just got kizmale privlege’.” He sighed. “Juswance, though, she akshually told me something interesting, which I cannot share, and I thought, wow, she really has issues an’maybe I can help and be all psychologisty but the next week, nope, back to the boring.”

                “Britta likes to preach,” Jeff agreed. “Iznice that’s she passionate—”

                “ _Very_ nice,” Duncan interrupted. “She’s her hottest when she’s on a rant, I jusdon’t know how to make a conversation like that.”

                Jeff nodded. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why it din’t work out. It was just sex. And we…both wanted something else.”

                “Britta complisheder mission to make you a better man, and it meant you couldn’t be together?”

                “No, Slater had something t’do with it. I _liked_ havina girlfriend. But Britta…sheza good friend, but Britta wants me t’be better, only she thinks I suck now. An’ she was okay with it, ferwhile, just…doing it all the time, but then she ditched me, b’fore I was ready, nestly.” Jeff sighed, thoughts going back to their earlier conversation. “While Annie…she wants me t’be better ’cause she thinks I’m really good. She likes me righnow, but she thinks I could beven better. She…whazza word?”

                Jeff trailed off, trying to think through the haze of he had no idea how many drinks.

                “She _believes_ n’me. Thazzit. She believes n’me. An’ thazwhat I love abouter.”

                Duncan had been very quiet through Jeff’s whole slurred speech, but now his eyes suddenly widened, and Jeff worried that maybe he’d said too much. “Whaz wrong?”

                “Not positive, but I think I may’ve just pissed my pants.”

                Jeff was starting to turn sober enough that he knew it was time to end this little outing. He called a cab for them, and helped load a reeling Duncan into it, soaked pants and all. He saw him to his house, and forced him to vomit in his yard while the cab waited. Then Jeff took it back to his place, paying the ridiculous fare and deciding he’d force Duncan to fork over half the next day.

                He was exhausted and still drunk enough that he passed out on his bed fully clothed. The next day, he didn’t remember much of what had transpired the night before. There was Duncan singing “God Save the Queen,” and wetting himself at the end, and he knew he’d told him about Britta on the camping trip, which she probably wouldn’t like. But otherwise, there were big gaps, and his pounding head couldn’t fill them.

                Unfortunately for Jeff, while inebriation did render Duncan a creep while simultaneously impairing any of his functions below his waist, there was one thing that never happened to him, no matter how much he drank.

                He didn’t forget.


End file.
